He seemed to be wondering the same thing. “She wouldn’t thank you for that.”
“She might. One day.”
“Does it not occur to you that I would try to be a good husband?”
Surprised by his sharp tone, she studied him. “I’m sorry. But she’ll fall in love with you, you see. Don’t you understand the powers of your attractions?”
“I must marry. What solution do you present, O fount of wisdom?”
His tone stung, so she stung back. “Pray for love, my lord, but in the meantime, try chastity.”
He laughed. “I think that would more likely engender desperation. And then what folly might I tumble into?”
Unfortunately, Genova knew exactly what he meant.
The group was finally in order and were being marshaled to walk across the lawn toward a distant stand of trees. For some reason, perhaps romantic tact, she and Ash had not been shepherded along with the rest.
That would not do. Genova hurried after them.
Chapter Twenty-six
Breath still misted a little in the air, but the sun was warm on her skin. The air was sharply fresh as it never was in summer. Geneva inhaled, trying to clear her mind of madness. The cause of her madness fell into step beside her.
“Running away? Were nine kisses too much for you? Do you want to end the game?”
“I will end the game if you agree to support…that child.” Diplomatically, she avoided saying “your child.”
When he didn’t reply, she glanced at him “Why not? I know you already support other bastards.”
“Who the devil told you that?”
“Does it matter?”
“Probably not. I can’t take responsibility for Molly Carew’s child.”
She stopped to confront him. “Why not?”
She saw anger flare. “Because to do so would be seen as an admission that Molly was telling the truth. That the child is mine. And he is not.”
“How can youpossiblybe sure?”
“I have no intention of explaining myself to you, Miss Smith. You must simply take my word.”
If the thought wasn’t ridiculous, she’d want to shake him. “You needn’t protect my innocence. I know the ways men seek to avoid fathering a child.”
At his look of shock, she wished the words unsaid, but why did the world insist that unmarried meant abysmally ignorant?
“How?” he asked.
She turned and marched on. “I have no intention of explaining myself to you, my lord. You must simply take my word that I am not a ruined woman.”
He fell into step beside her. “I said nothing about ruin. If you’re not a maiden, Genova, the next few days could be a great deal more interesting, and you must know it.”
“Must?”
“I pay no forfeit for that, but you, on the other hand, do.”
He stopped her, kissed his own gloved fingers then brushed them across her lips. “Seven owed,” he said.
